


Mistaken Identity

by reigningqueenofwords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 04:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18423096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords
Summary: Request: @diesintheshower Imagine meeting Sam and Dean for the first time and them mistaking the reader for the witch they’re hunting because (y/n) is like an acquaintance of the witch and she is framing (y/n). Also can Sam have a little crush on the reader





	Mistaken Identity

**Author's Note:**

> Request: @diesintheshower Imagine meeting Sam and Dean for the first time and them mistaking the reader for the witch they’re hunting because (y/n) is like an acquaintance of the witch and she is framing (y/n). Also can Sam have a little crush on the reader

Sitting on your couch, you popped a chip in your mouth. It was a dreary Saturday, and you had the day off. You planned to lounge around the house, watch as much tv as you wanted, and eat what you wanted. That’s the mood that the weather gave off. It wasn’t a common agenda for you,  but you deserved it.

It was close to lunchtime when there was a knock on the door. Getting up, you ran your fingers through your hair in an effort to make it look less like you hadn’t done anything since you crawled out of bed that morning.

As soon as the door opened, you were greeted with two attractive men in suits. “Can I help you?” You asked, looking between them.

The blonde haired one pulled out a gun and aimed it at you, starting to move forward, making you back up. “Why them?” He asked angrily.

You looked at him, scared, and confused. “What are you _talking_ about?” You asked.

“Don’t act all innocent.” He gave you a look of disgust. “Jenny, Carla, Nancy?”

Hearing the names,  you connected the dots. “You think I had something to do with their deaths?” You scoffed, trying to control your breathing. “I thought that those were freak accidents?”

The taller one watched you, a sad look on his face. “We know you’re the witch, Y/N.” He told you, his voice a complete contrast to the other man’s. His was calm.

“Witch?!” Who the hell were these people?

* * *

You were tied to one of your kitchen chairs. Your hands were behind your back. The taller one- Sam, you now knew- was watching you. “Why are you staring?” You snapped.

He looked almost bashful. “Uh…” Sam ran his hand through his hair. “I’m just… I don’t know, bummed you’re the witch. You’re cute.”

“ **OH MY GOD**. I’m not a damn witch!” You half whined. “But…thanks…” You sighed.

Hearing footsteps, you both looked over towards the hall and saw Dean coming out holding a box. “Not the witch?” He asked, opening the box to show you the contents. “Then what do call all this?”

As he got closer, your eyes went wide. “That’s not mine!” You told him quickly. “But I know who it belongs to.”

“Who?” Sam asked, hopeful that this worked out that you weren’t the witch. Not that he’d ever have a chance with you- he had tied you to a damn chair.

“Y/F/N.” You told them, shaking slightly. “I-I’ve had her over a couple times for drinks.” She wasn’t a close friend or anything, but you did know her. “She must have slipped that in the last time she was here.” That was the only thing that made any sense.

The men shared a look, Dean’s jaw clenching slightly. “Damn it.”


End file.
